Orquesta Ibrahim Ferrer, Rubén González y Su Grupo, Bass Concert Hall, February 14

Orquesta Ibrahim Ferrer, Rubén González y Su Grupo

Bass Concert Hall, February 14

And suddenly it was real. Down went the lights, up came the audience, and out onto the huge Bass Concert Hall stage wobbled 81-year-old Cuban pianist Rubén González, his carmel-colored skin and angel white hair glowing against his finely tailored gray suit. In the minds of an ecstatic, electric throng of Austinites who had sold out the event months in advance rolled an Academy Awards-style film clip from this year's Best Documentary shoe-in, Wim Wenders' Buena Vista Social Club: the scene in which fragile, sweet-natured González plays pied piper to a ballroom full of schoolgirl ballerinas pirouetting around his piano in a sunlit and airy dilapidated Cuban palace. Sitting with his back to UT's pin-drop perfect, and at this point, thundering full house, González was no longer just a celluloid hero, nor simply a soundtrack to Havana's nightclub era gone by as found on the veteran pianist's enchanting Nonesuch debut, Introducing ... Rubén González ('97). No, this time, González was flesh and blood, and by some music industry booking miracle, he had come to serenade our small island in the vast Texas Ocean. On Valentine's Day, no less. Folks went nuts, naturally. Lost their shit for the better part of three hours. And yet, that first fleeting instrumental González opened with -- the first and last time there were less than half a dozen Cuban nationals onstage -- may well have been the heart of the entire evening, as 3,000 locals collectively held their breath to hear those golden melodies flowing from González's arthritic hands. For the next hour, accompanied by a septet that included BVSC board members "Cachaíto" Lopéz on stand-up bass and Manuel "Guajiro" Mirabal on Gabriel's trumpet, González sounded like anything but an ossifying musical legend with stiffening digits; from those fingers a lifetime of faith, humility, and humor fell like tears of joy. When Omara Portuondo walked out onstage and took a long, deep bow, that breeze turned to gale, the audience lavishing a tidal wave of affection on the BVSC queen. Despite guesting on only two tunes with González, she was ever-present during Ibrahim Ferrer's lengthy second set, all but stealing the entire show, judging from the fervent reception she received throughout the evening. Ferrer, for his part, a sandy-voiced crooner often referred to as Cuba's own Nat King Cole, demonstrated every ounce of charisma captured in the movie, leading his 15-piece orchestra through a romanticized reverie of paradise lost. At the end, when Ferrer, Portuondo, González, and the rest of the Cuban flotilla gathered onstage for the big finale end-run of hits -- "Candela," "Dos Gardenias," and "El Cuarto de Tula" -- the one and only Carnegie Hall glimpsed at the conclusion of Wenders' cultural bridge had nothing on Austin's Bass Concert Hall.